


all i wanna do is be with you

by 4drinkamy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode: 6x03 The Tattler, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, bc i know i do, whomst else loves horny amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 14:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17562386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4drinkamy/pseuds/4drinkamy
Summary: What happens in the school administration office, stays in the school administration office.





	all i wanna do is be with you

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the smut on main folks!!!!! i got like 3 requests for this so here i be, enjoy heauxs !

"You did so much community service. Me _likey_..." Amy squeezes his shoulder, the glint in her eye one that Jake's come to be very familiar with in their three and a half years of being together. Usually it’s one saved for their bedroom or their shower or, okay, _very occasionally_ Supply Closet J at the precinct; never did Jake think he’d be in this situation in his high school’s administration office. (Not that he’s truly complaining.)

"You're seriously turned on by that?"  
  
"Mhm. You should've told me you were on the charities committee," Amy’s free hand comes to fiddle with his hoodie’s collar, her lowered sexy voice already threatening to mess with his self-control. "And that you got an A in geography."  
  
Miss Wilkinson, his geography teacher, had always promised the class that the information she taught would one day come in useful and, with his wife biting her lip as her eyes skim his senior year report, she's certainly not wrong. For the first time in twenty years, he mentally thanks his former 1999 self for knowing the processes of erosion and deposition affecting coastal landscapes.

  
"Y'know, I actually only got on that committee because the elected kid had to drop out of school for a semester because he got glandular fever," Jake admits, realising that it was the wrong thing to say as soon as Amy’s expression contorts into a look of slight disgust. " _But_ I believe I still wrote a manifesto and changed the formatting of it with the help of Clippy."  
  
"God, that’s so hot,” Amy says, kissing him fiercely and letting the report fall to the floor as she reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands instinctively find her waist and her lipstick, retrieved from her Caboodle before they left their apartment, is grape-flavoured and, just like the rest of her, addictive. She pulls away moments later and is only a little breathless when she says, “Tell me more.”

“Uhhh,” Jake racks his brain for anything remotely impressive from his life twenty years ago to dirty talk his wife with. “Oh! Once, in biology, I did a presentation on my turtle Graham Crackers’ species and it got full marks while also raising awareness about turtle conservation.”

“Babe, you're so responsible,” Amy says in a sultry tone that makes Jake melt every time, and then her left hand is palming him through his jeans and Jake’s brain finally catches up with where this is going. Which is funny, considering the fact that blood, and with it his senses, is definitely rushing south instead.

“Ames,” he pants, trying to resist the urge to grind against her hand in search of more friction. “Finding the tattler…”

“This is still part of the investigation,” Amy clarifies with a smirk, undoing the top two buttons of her dress to reveal some cleavage, just for him. “This is just the part where the victim of the crime gets some compensation. And where one of the lead detectives on the case fulfils her fantasy of having sex in an administration office, which the other detective knows full well about.”

Really, Jake can’t argue with that logic. And he definitely can't argue with his wife looking stupidly hot in her 90s outfit and the fact that knowing she's turned on inevitably makes him turned on. The evidence of the latter is revealed when Amy unbuttons his jeans and, being ridiculously oversized, they swiftly fall to his ankles. When she reaches into his boxers, he can't help but moan.

Usually sex in a semi-public place would be a complete no-no from Amy, as stipulated in an unwritten constitution between them (and also encoded in one of her sex binders), but she _did_ break a glass window with her fist to get them here so Jake figures anything goes. He asks her anyway just to check, “You sure about this, Ames?”

“Yeah, we’ll be quick,” she assures him, kissing his neck. “There’s no cameras in here and _technically_ the door is still locked.”

“Title of your sex tape,” Jake grins because he can't help himself.  Amy rolls her eyes and takes her chance to kiss the smirk off his face.

He kisses her back fervently, letting his tongue join the party when she parts her mouth, and his hands find her ass before he reaches to hoist her onto the desk. She bites his bottom lip gently as she swiftly pulls his boxers to his knees, and that's all the prompting he needs to pull her tights and panties down and thank a higher power that she's wearing a dress.

And then his incredibly turned on wife is audibly gasping at the feeling of him guiding himself inside her and, as he begins to move when she nods, her teeth biting her lip in anticipation, it hits him that he's actually _having sex_ in his former high school's administration office. If only Brandon Bliss could see him now. (Not that he's into voyeurism - his wife being super cool in her own way is the point.)  
  
“I can't believe we're doing this,” Jake says, and Amy moans in what he presumes is agreement. “You’re so hot, Santiago.”

It’s a minute of moaning and panting later when Amy mutters against his lips, “Over the desk.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck me-” she says barely louder than a whisper, her eyes closed as pleasure continues to wash over her (Amy Bedroom Face No.16, by Jake's calculations). “Over the desk.”

“So. Hot,” he reaffirms, pulling out briefly so that she can turn around and diligently move some papers and stationery out of the way and lean over the desk. He knows this is part of her fantasy, she's told him many times over, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this too.

After impatient seconds they’re together again, falling into a familiar, well-practised rhythm, and it’s quick, it’s rough and, as always, it's stupid good.

So good that before long Amy’s panting, “Baby, I’m close,” and Jake’s bringing his hand under her dress to touch her just the way she likes. He can tell she’s trying not to moan too loud so not to get caught, and it spurs something inside him to add even more pressure with his touches, just to tease her, because teasing her is what he does best.

He’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about lasting by virtue of their situation, glad that (what he's pretty sure is) four-drink Amy doesn't mind either, and, soon, the feeling of her coming around him is too much for him to handle, his movements stilling and his entire body overwhelmed with pleasure. In that moment, Jake decides that this is up there with one of the hottest things they've ever done - at least this high school reunion didn't completely go to shit, trust his wife to ensure that. He’s pretty sure by the contented grin on Amy’s face when she finally turns around that she’d agree.

“You good?” she smiles as her breathing begins to even out, grabbing tissues from the poor unknowing school secretary’s desk to dutifully clean themselves up.

“I'm awesome. You?” he asks with a chuckle, already knowing the answer as he buttons his jeans back up.

Amy pulls her tights back up, fastens the buttons up on her dress and tightens the scrunchies in her hair. “So, so awesome.” She reaches up to kiss him softly, the way she usually does after sex, “Thank you and I love you. You're my favourite.”

Her cheeks are flushed and she looks so freaking cute as Jake rubs her lower back, “I love you too, babe.” A pause, their foreheads touching, their lips smiling against each other, as they slowly bring themselves back to reality. “Let's go catch our tattler?”

"Hang on,” Amy brings a finger to his lips, rubbing off the smudges of her lipstick, the only remaining evidence of what just happened. She reaches into her mini backpack for the lipstick in question and efficiently reapplies it to her own lips, using her phone camera as a mirror, before picking up Jake’s report from the floor, folding it neatly and zipping it in her bag, no doubt to be stored in her bedside table drawer or taped into a binder as soon as they get home. Jake shakes his head with a smile as he watches her - this is his _wife_ , his beautiful, horny, incredible wife.

“Okay,” she says matter of factly, smoothing out any vague creases in her dress. She takes his hand with a smile, “Let’s go catch our tattler.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments sustain me like oatmeal x


End file.
